Letters to Santa
by 3VAD127
Summary: AU gift fic for a friend. Zuko only wrote that stupid letter to make his uncle happy and to keep his mother’s traditions alive. He never expected it to actually come true. A cute oneshot just in time for the holidays. Sokka/Zuko slash. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer:** I own the rights to this story… and that's about it. :P

**Author's Notes:** A gift fic for my friend on dA, ItachixUchiha—better known here as FriendshipxOfxFire. You're awesome! :3 And just as a warning, the characters in this story might be a tad OOC, but that's only because I've written little to no slash before this. So pardon my noobishness and just go with it. Please.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

**

* * *

Letters to Santa**

Zuko let out a low breath and slammed his locker shut. Slowly, he let his forehead fall against the cool metal. Today had been such a painful day for him. It had been a combination of a lot of things, really: his sister had been a b-i-you know what as usual, Mr. Zhao had chosen today to pick on him (when didn't he?), Pakku and Piandao both said he was falling behind in their classes… blah blah blah. Crap like that. He just wanted high school to be freaking _over with_ already.

A sigh. Someone suddenly brushed against his shoulder, and the dark-haired teen found himself doing a face-plant in the lockers. "Hey, watch it!" he growled angrily to some guy rushing down the hallway.

The teen threw an "I'm sorry!" over his shoulder before shooting off further down the hallway. Zuko had gotten a better look at him, though—shiny dark-brown hair, glacier-colored irises, darkly-tinted skin tanned to perfection. He sighed and rolled his eyes. It was just Sokka. They had been somewhat-sorta friends since practically kindergarten, and that boy was always getting himself into trouble. Zuko could actually remember quite a few times where he himself had gotten dragged into Sokka's mess, too… He smiled just a little bit.

Sokka had only made it to the end of the hallway before he ended up knocking some pretty girl's books out of her hands. And Sokka, of course, being the kind of guy he was, had to stop and help a pretty girl in trouble. He was so funny. Just his mannerisms, the way he talked, the way he walked, made Zuko want to laugh. His speech was either fast and babbling like a little creek or suave like a free-flowing ocean current. Sokka's walk was smooth and connected, too; his joints never seemed to stiffen. Arms at his sides, he kind of loped along in large strides rather than walked.

It was even more amusing to see Zuko and Sokka walk next to each other. While Sokka made huge, easy steps with that laid-back attitude of his, Zuko's movements were sharp, precise, and kind of stiff. Not a single movement was wasted on himself.

Zuko watched Sokka as his friend helplessly tried to assist the girl at the end of the hallway. It gave him a good laugh, really, to see how… well, how not-good with girls he was. Not that he himself was any better… Actually, to be honest, Sokka was probably the more charismatic one of them two—

Digressing. Zuko felt a genuine smile cross his lips as his friend scurried around like a cut-up chicken. And he felt something strange in his chest cavity; he placed a hand over the spot as his mismatched golden eyes widened slightly in curiosity. This had been happening for the past few weeks, actually. Whenever Sokka walked by him like that… or laughed his stupid, idiotic, goofball laugh… or smiled a genuine smile to anyone, really… his chest tightened. It was so strange. The cat-eyed teenager could've sworn he felt a tiny fluttering right in his gut, too…

He felt like he might be sick. He had even asked his uncle to check him out a few times, but he didn't seem to be physically ill in any sort of way. It was just… confusing. That was really the only word that could describe what he was feeling.

So, with a heavy heart and a confused brain, Zuko turned from the school scene and exited the building. It was a long walk to Uncle's house, though he took comfort in the knowledge that Iroh would be waiting outside for him with open arms and some good advice.

--

Immediately after walking through the door, Zuko threw his backpack in a corner and plopped down on the sofa. His muddy boots were off in an instant, and the TV was on quicker than he could blink. His more rotund uncle Iroh casually shut the door and put his nephew's shoes away before saying, "Now what was that all about? You're not one to throw things around like that, Zuko."

"Nothing," the teen grunted. "Just school. And people being stupid. I just wanna watch some TV."

Iroh's eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't say anything. He knew when to leave Zuko alone… and now was definitely one of those times. "All right," the elder conceded, "but it's cold outside. I'll probably be making some hot chocolate if you want a mug later."

Zuko laid his head on the armrest as he watched badly-animated characters senselessly beat the crap out of each other. There was nothing like anime violence to wash away the horrors of a bad day at high school. "Hnn." But it wasn't long before he got bored of the show and decided to get in on the action by picking up a controller and playing a videogame. Pixellated blood and saliva flew across the screen as Zuko's character threw merciless punches, roundhouses, and drop-kicks.

Uncle rested himself easily in the couch cushions as Zuko migrated to the floor. It was easier to see that way, anyway. The old man sipped some hot cocoa. "So what's on your mind?"

For a split second, Zuko was distracted and allowed the other fighter an opening. He cursed when he saw his character getting mauled by his opponent. "_Nothing_, Uncle, I swear. Just… school as usual." Raven black eyebrows scrunched together in concentration; he was seriously low on health now.

"Is it a girl?"

"…Gah! Uncle!" The teen paused the game. "No, it is _not_ a girl! I told you, I'm fine." Zuko crossed his arms over his knees.

The jovial old man laughed lightly. "Don't pout, Nephew, it's not that bad. But all right, I'll leave you alone if you really don't want to talk about it."

As he was getting up to leave, Zuko said in a small tone, "But could you please get me some hot chocolate?"

Iroh smiled and gave a friendly wink. "Three giant marshmallows and a spritz of whipped cream on top. Of course."

--

Zuko sat on the couch again, unsure of what to do next. Iroh was right when he said something was bothering him. But… it wasn't anything big, really. Most certainly not a GIRL. Girls were just… ugh. He wasn't quite sure. Girls were obnoxious and confusing and gossipy all at the same time. Yeah, he was physically attracted to them, but living with an abusive older sister had kinda scarred him for life—in more ways than one.

So what was the big deal?

Maybe it was because he couldn't… well, he couldn't get _something_ off of his mind. What that "something" was, he wasn't quite sure yet. Zuko licked his lips and bit into the soft marshmallow in his cup. It was absolutely delicious—Iroh knew just how long to let the drink sit so its marshmallows could soak up all the chocolatey flavors. He hummed in pleasure. Uncle's drinks were always so good.

Speaking of which… Uncle Iroh emerged from the kitchen and sat down beside the young teen. He had a smile on his face and a curious sparkle in his eye, like he thought he had come up with the most brilliant idea ever. He said, "Actually, Nephew… I was wondering if you could do a little favor for me today. You know my charity work?" Zuko nodded. Uncle was always doing nice things for people, from working at soup kitchens to ringing bells for the Salvation Army. "Well, I'm afraid that I won't be able to make it to the mall on Saturday."

The pale teen's golden eyes widened. Oh no… the mall. Uncle worked as a mall Santa on Saturdays. "No… No way, Uncle—"

The man held up his hand. "Hang on… just wait a moment. I need you to fill in for me. But!—" Zuko tried to protest but was silenced. "—It will only be for one day. It's not that bad! Come on, Zuko, think of all the good you can do with this job. Hundreds of kids flock to Santa's Village every year, and it just makes me so happy to see those children still hoping and still believing in an old man like me."

Zuko _wanted_ to protest. He wanted to groan and complain and say "No freaking way on God's green earth"… but he didn't. Somehow, his uncle's sheepish look and shrugging shoulders convinced him it was the right thing to do. So he growled gutturally. "All right… FINE. I'll do it. But just this once." He got up to leave before turning around and saying, "But you seriously owe me one."

Iroh grinned. "Of course. But before you go, you might want to practice your Santa act."

Zuko stopped dead in his tracks. "My what."

He shrugged. "Those kids expect you to be Santa. So you need to smile and be nice and say 'Ho ho ho!', and then ask them what they want for Christmas."

The teen winced. How could he act so innocent when Uncle was _obviously_ guilt-tripping him into this whole mess? "Hnn… fine. I guess I'll do that, too…"

"You can start by trying on the costume and attempting to get into the Christmas spirit."

Zuko ground his teeth. "And how am I supposed to do _that_?"

Iroh settled further into the sofa; he was waxing nostalgic, thinking about the good old days when his lovely sister-in-law was still around. "Think about what a perfect Christmas for you would look like. Think about the holidays at home, BEFORE your father and Azula ruined it all. And… maybe you could try reliving your childhood. Your _good_ childhood, that is," the elder corrected. "You never know, Nephew. Stranger things have happened."

"Gaah! _Uncle_!" Zuko stalked off to his room and slammed the door, but he could still hear his guardian's soft chuckles through the walls. "Stupid Christmas… this is going to be a disaster." He sat down on his bed and held his head in his hands. "A _complete_ disaster."

It took nearly thirty minutes for the angsty teen to calm down. He would stand up and pace the room, muttering (usually negative) things about Santa and Christmas and how forgetful his uncle was. ("Couldn't he have forseen that SLIGHT schedule conflict?!" he shouted.) He would then groan in complete distaste and horror before collapsing in a pile on the bed. Zuko sighed and rolled over. Looking out the window right beside his bed, he noticed that something incredible was happening—it was snowing. "No surprise," he grunted. "It's like, twelve degrees below zero out there."

He gripped his bedsheets. So. Let's say Uncle was right—hypothetically speaking, of course—and he did show up at the mall to "be Santa." Would that automatically make him a better person? Could that possibly help all the bad things he had done, all of the instances where he had screwed up a relationship because of his own stupidity? …Pfft. He doubted it. Everyone else may have been blissfully blinded by all the red-and-green flashing lights, but Zuko knew that there were no such things as miracles.

Not in this life, anyway.

But still… Zuko blinked his golden eyes. Still. There was still that small chance, that tiny opportunity that maybe, just _maybe_, the one thing he wanted might come true. He allowed for a soft smile as one of his few good Christmas memories returned to him. It was before his mother left. She had grown up practically living for Christmas, and she had believed in Santa as a little girl, too. So every year, she would decorate the entire estate by herself and would even put up a giant ten-foot Christmas tree in the living room. Of course, it drove his father nuts, but it was worth it. Just the spirit she had in her was definitely worth it.

Zuko also remembered how she had asked (pleaded, actually) himself and Azula to write letters to Santa. She had done it every year, and she had gotten just what she wanted. Azula scoffed, obviously, and Zuko didn't really believe in Santa, but he wrote a letter every year anyway. Just for her.

He got up and paced the room. He still didn't believe in Santa and magic and all that other stuff. But he did believe in his mother… and how much he loved her… and how he wanted her beautiful traditions to live on, even if she didn't. So the teen sighed heavily but sat himself down at his desk. He had a letter to write, and it was important.

--

"Ho, ho, ho! Well, hello there little boy." Zuko smiled merrily as another child clambered into his lap. "And what do you want for Christmas?"

The boy was about six years old and had the largest, most adorable brown eyes Zuko had ever seen. "I want a Transformers!"

The teen chuckled at the boy's poor grammar. "A Transformer, huh? Well…" he stroked his beard in what he hoped was an endearing fashion. "…Have you been a good boy this year?"

The brown-eyed youth bounced excitedly on Zuko's knee; he winced but tried not to show it. "Yes yes yes!" he screeched loudly.

"Oh, really? Do you have an older sister?"

The bouncing stopped. "Yeah… but she's mean." Small arms crossed over his chest as he pouted slightly.

Zuko laughed and winked at him. "Well then. I'll make sure that you get some extra Transformers this year, huh? How about that?"

"Yaay!" The boy jumped out of his lap and ran through the fake cotton snow to where his mother was waiting on the other side of a red rope. "Mommy, Mommy, I'm gonna get some Transformers this year!" Zuko almost laughed at the child's enthusiasm. But then he groaned and rested his head on his palm. This was almost too much for him. Sure, the kids were cute and innocent, but they were also annoying as heck. It took all of his willpower just to stay SANE.

He looked at his watch. Oh gosh… _Only two and a half more hours of this stuff…_ Zuko groaned to himself.

The teenaged Santa held up a hand to the elf; his coworker understood and stopped the flow of kids for a few precious moments. Zuko massaged his temples as he thought, _I really need some Advil right about now._ He blew out a huge breath. _OK, Zuko…_ _it's not that bad. You're just doing your uncle a favor is all. Think of all the good that might come out of this._

The pale-skinned boy gulped but readjusted his fake beard stoically and gestured for the kids to start pouring in again. _Here we go again…_

It was strange, though. The next person wasn't a child… he was a teen, just about Zuko's own age. His golden eyes widened in recognition. It was Sokka. He was dressed in a puffy winter coat with a striped scarf and fur-lined hat, but there was no mistaking the caramel skin color or the bright blue eyes hidden beneath dark locks of hair. Sokka quickly strode over to "Santa" in a gait much more tense than his usual one before stuffing an envelope into his hands. "Here," was all Sokka said, and then he was gone.

Zuko could only sit there, bewildered. He could've sworn he had seen a hint of pink in the other's cheeks.

Yeah, well… then again, Zuko was fairly certain that it must've been pretty embarrassing for Sokka to wait in line with a bunch of children to see Santa. Nobody his age (nobody _their_ age) did that anymore. The dressed-up sixteen-year-old blinked before remembering the envelope in his hand.

The word "Santa" was scrawled across the front in what could only be described as shaky, unreadable, and just downright _awful_ handwriting. Again, a small smile played across the pale teen's lips. He gestured to the elf again before tearing open the letter. Inside, there was a single piece of paper with a short message written in the same illegible scrawl. Zuko had to squint and turn the letter sideways in order to read it. But it said this—

"_Dear Santa,_

_All I want for Christmas this year is for Zuko to like me._

_Love, Sokka"_

Zuko suddenly felt a lump lodge in his throat, and the fur-trimmed suit mysteriously became itchy and hot. Sokka… Sokka _liked _him? And not just as a BGF (Best Guy Friend), but in that awkward, kinda-sorta-maybe "I-might-like-you-as-more-than-a-friend-but-I'm-afraid-to-say-anything" sort of way? Zuko tried to blink away his surprise as images from earlier that week flooded his mind. Sokka rushing through the hallway and accidentally shoving him into the lockers. That strange feeling in the pit of his stomach…

Crap. It was back again. But this time, Zuko thought he knew what he was supposed to do. Sokka had taken a real risk writing a letter like that, and Zuko was going to make sure the other teen wasn't putting himself out there for nothing.

"Hey, wait up!" Zuko left the large golden chair and the winding line of screaming kids. He hopped over the red rope and started weaving through the mall, all the while plotting Sokka's most logical escape routes. He didn't even care anymore that people were staring at him, a crazy guy running around the mall in a stuffy Santa costume. He might've put up a fuss last week (or heck, even yesterday), but he had much more important things on his mind at the moment.

Like Sokka.

Unfortunately, Zuko soon had to break behind a large stone pillar beside an alcove in the architecture. Panting slightly, the teen rested his hands on his knees. That idiot… He ran off before Zuko could even say anything to him. Why didn't he just stick around a little bit longer? Maybe then he could've seen Zuko's reaction for himself.

But a little voice in his head reminded Zuko that he probably would've done the same if their roles had been reversed. Zuko shook his head in defeat before pulling off the red hat and fake beard. They were massively itchy anyway. He turned around and sighed, deciding to just give it up for now. There was no way he could catch up to Sokka; he had probably been going in the wrong direction the whole time, anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets dejectedly before winding down some unknown hallways in the back of the mall. He might as well just get lost in here; he had pretty much screwed up his job for Unc—

"Gaah!" Zuko jumped back when he ran into an actual human being. Large blue eyes blinked back at him, much more surprised than he was. Zuko smiled in relief.

"God, Sokka, I've been looking all over for you! After you gave me that letter, I—"

At first, Sokka looked freaked out at the coincidence of seeing his friend at the mall in (half) a Santa costume. But at that last comment, he quickly held up a hand to shush the other teen. "Wait. You mean… you were that Santa? And I gave my letter… to _you_?" His tanned face paled slightly. "Oh man…"

Zuko felt… giddy. And he NEVER felt giddy. But he just couldn't help bouncing on his toes a little as he watched the other boy freak out helplessly. "Wait," he said softly, ending the other's misery. "There's something you should probably read."

Sokka twiddled his fingers nervously. This was not going well. He had probably just made an idiot out of himself—well, an even _bigger_ idiot out of himself—in front of the only guy in school who actually took him seriously. Carefully, and with shaking hands, he reached out for the piece of paper that Zuko held out to him.

Irises softly tinted like a glacier scanned back and forth as he read the short message. His mouth dropped open. But then a silly, satisfied grin spread across his face. Zuko could've sworn that in that moment, Sokka shone brighter than a Christmas angel.

The younger boy dug his slim fingers into Zuko's furry collar, while the letter slipped out of Sokka's hands and fluttered to the ground like a new-fallen snow. Sokka offered his friend a red-faced but reassuring smile before standing on his tiptoes and kissing him softly. Pale fingers slid through the younger's dark brown locks, and they both sighed in contentment. Zuko never could've imagined that such a huge transition from 'kinda-sorta friends' to 'maybe more than that' could have happened so quickly between them.

"You know," Zuko breathed into Sokka's ear, "I'm really glad I wrote that letter."

Sokka hid his embarrassment by burying his face in Zuko's shoulder. "Me too," he whispered. "I'm glad you could be my Santa."

**

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Post Author's Notes:** GAAH! Cheesy ending! D: (dies)

Well, this is pretty much my first time writing something serious like this. Any suggestions? Comments? Critique? I could use them all, so don't be afraid to drop me a line. Merry Christmas! 3:-{


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